(Untitled)

[getsome_sleep]

Characters: Huo (getsome_sleep) and Sniper (longnosedliar)
Date/Time: Backdated to July 26th.
Location: Scavengers' Yard
Rating: PG
Summary: Huo admits to his part in Sniper's death. The opposite of hilarity ensues.

Comments

[longnosedliar]

Sniper still felt the loss of Mugi and Prince keenly, but shook the feeling off in order to get to work. There were others, like Krile, who would feel such a loss far more. Besides, his dream provided him with solace even as he felt tempted to simply sit at home and mourn the loss of the easy friendship Mugi provided. There was nobody else like Mugi. And there never would be, he acknowledged with a shrug. Every relationship here seemed to be strife with conflict and it had been a breath of fresh air to simply relax with a like-minded friend where they didn’t have to sit around and think, they just had to be But in his dream, Mugi said he would wait. So he would wait. It was as simple as that. Sniper knew even without properly knowing him that his Captain would keep his promise. Above all else, he had faith in that. So he squashed the hurt deep down into his gut and went about his job as he knew he ought to. He loved the Yard, and the hours of labour proved to be a pleasant distraction. It was easier to ignore his racing

[getsome_sleep]

“Gui-Sniper.” It was so good to see him alive, even now a while later, still so good. Huo smiled despite himself, a smile halfway between relieved and sad. He did not know how much Sniper would notice or attribute meaning to the changed honorific. He would have liked to act as though all was normal, would have liked a simple, easy, cheerful conversation - no one was quite as good for that as Sniper. But that was a lost cause. He had prepared for that. And now, just as it was when removing diseased tissue, the faster the cut the better.

“Your timing is good. I’ve come to speak to you - it is important.” He glanced around them - they were not alone in the Yard, and he did not want prying eyes or ears. As he had said to Hawk, Sniper had the right to the knowledge and also to the decision as for what to do with it. It was all in his hands. Compensation, of sorts, for how his hands had been guided without his knowledge.

“I should appreciate if we could sit in private.”

[longnosedliar]

Gui. Huo’s honorifics were always confusing to Sniper - he could only really understand the way people like Souji spoke in that respect - but that was different than usual. What did it mean again? He didn’t remember, but it probably meant something important. Frowning, he slid down the pile of junk and landed in front of Huo. “Important? Yeah, of course.”

He glanced around him to see who might be listening, brow furrowed and then leaned closer to Huo to say in a hushed voice, “If it’s, uh, the dangerous sort of important I think the Yard’s pretty safe.” He tried to think about what else would be important, and then added on, “It’s - you and Hawk aren’t hurt or anything, right?”

[getsome_sleep]

“No. We are well.” Huo shook his head. There was that, at least - for a given value of well. These little turns of interaction, Sniper being concerned for his well-being and safety, made it harder.

“It has to do with what you have done, and the consequences.” Such a neutral, almost clinical way to put it. He could not very well say your death - that had a sick ring to it, and the situation was twisted enough. Sniper would understand, if not now then soon enough. “Specifically it has to do with the note that you pinned to the Tree where you worked, asking you how deep you have dug.”

[longnosedliar]

“Oh,” Sniper said a little flatly, the concern and cheerfulness falling flat off his face. After he had initially spoken of it to his friends, it was an uncomfortable topic that he tried not to think about too much, which meant of course that he thought about it all the more. He placed his bag on the ground, wondering what it was that Huo had to say. Perhaps Huo wanted to yell at him for it. Or, more likely, he wanted to speak quietly and coldly about it, because Huo didn’t yell. Somehow, Sniper preferred to be yelled at and even punched over being spoken calmly to, but there was no helping it.

“Okay,” he said a bit miserably, resting one hand on his chest where the tip of gnarled scar tissue peeked from over the top of his overalls. “Where did you want to go to talk about it?”